


Love Lessons

by Seeroftodayandtomorrow



Category: Glee
Genre: Historical, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-13 23:50:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9147463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeroftodayandtomorrow/pseuds/Seeroftodayandtomorrow
Summary: Fake-historical AU. Blaine Anderson, brother to the Viscount Dalton, needs lessons in the matters of love in order to be able to woo the man he loves. Who better to teach him than the rakish young lord Kurt Hummel?Inspired by a short story by Megan Derr





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New year, new story!  
> I'm very excited about this, so I hope you like it!  
> Happy New Year! May it be better than the last one.

Kurt Hummel, only son of Burt, Lord of Lima, was riding through the woods, deeply in thought. It was a fine day in late summer, but the sun that shone through the leaves above him could not put a smile on the young lord's face. It wasn't that he had anything substantial to grieve him. Kurt had recently concluded his studies in town, where he had attended college and also a lot of balls, fêtes and parties. Now, returned home to the hall of his fathers, he had nothing to do but wait for his father to turn affairs over to him, something that was hopefully far away, as after his recent health troubles, lord Burt was again a hale and hearty man who despised being idle. Kurt had no such qualms; he quite enjoyed spending his days riding and reading and visiting his excellent tailor for ever new additions to his extensive wardrobe. There was just one thing he was missing.

Upon his return, his father had sat him down and quite sternly demanded he give up his rakish ways and settle down. At the time, Kurt hadn't minded; Lord Burt had sweetened the demand with promises of him being allowed more responsibility regarding his life in other matters, and had kept his promise: for the time being, Kurt's time was his own until his father would decide to groom him to take over. Moreover, before he went away, Kurt had dallied with most of the willing young noblemen in and around Lima, and he hadn't changed his ways much when in town. A change had seemed in order, especially as there was no one left he had set his sights on, and would rather not repeat an affair with somebody lest he provoke expectations of more than a few weeks of mutual pleasure.

But now...he didn't know if it was boredom or loneliness. He liked having his days to spend as he would, but he missed having someone to spend them with; no matter what people said, he had enjoyed his lovers' presence not only in the bedroom. Maybe, he mused, he should defy his father's orders for once. He was a good, dutiful son in general, but after all, how was he supposed to find someone to settle down with if he wasn't allowed to dally? If it didn't work out, then, if he and his lovers parted ways because they were heartily sick of each other's company, well, that was hardly his fault alone, was it?

That left the question of who was left. Who of the young men of the peerage would be available to him, who would be attractive and interesting and afford the necessary novelty to keep him amused for some time?

He could think of no one. For a moment, he wished he was even in the slightest inclined towards women, but he couldn't change that he wasn't—and the daughters of his neighbors were generally even more protected than the sons.

His deep sigh was echoed by another, and in turning, he realized he had reached a clearing with a small pond and a bench, a place he had often used to seduce a lover. The young man sitting on the bench had not noticed him, a sign of how deeply he must be engrossed in sighing and the writing of a letter or a poem, an awkward affair on a bench without a table.

Kurt observed the young man for a moment. He was handsome, even as he was fighting with the way his quill tried to poke holes into the paper he was writing on, and Kurt couldn't quite believe he had never seen him before - but then he realized he had. This must be the younger brother of Cooper Anderson, Viscount Dalton since the death of his father last year. Kurt had had a fun little thing with Cooper back when he had still been title-less but no less entitled, and although he generally liked his lovers less self-absorbed, he had mostly good memories of the affair. It had certainly been enough to keep him focused on Cooper to the point of completely overlooking his younger brother.

A mistake he intended to rectify right now.

Silently dismounting, he went across the clearing to the bench Anderson was sitting on, still trying to write and occasionally sighing. With effort, he kept himself from looking over the young man's shoulder too closely, for the writing looked like a poem, and the sighs made it all the more interesting to Kurt. A declaration of unrequited love, perhaps? Or was the lover far away or otherwise unreachable?

“Only schoolwork used to make me sigh so much,” he said.

The young man on the bench exclaimed loudly and flinched so violently he overturned his ink well, spilling the ink over his fine tan breeches.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” Kurt said. “I never meant to startle you. I apologize, I should have announced myself sooner.”

“It matters little,” Anderson said, ineffectually dabbing at the stain with a monogrammed kerchief from his pocket. “I was so occupied with myself you could have had a trumpet sound your arrival, I wouldn't have noticed it.”

“Still,” Kurt said. “I insist on making amends. Please, you must allow me to take you to my house so you can borrow some of my clothes, and someone can treat this stain so maybe your breeches can be saved.”

They were fine breeches, but saving them was not on Kurt's mind at all. Removing them, more so.

When Anderson hesitated, Fate showed she was on Kurt's side when a cloud moved in front of the sun, making the clearing look gloomy all of a sudden.

“My house is much closer than yours, if I'm not mistaken, and it looks like rain. I would hate for you to get wet on top of everything else.”

“You know who I am, then, my lord?” the young man asked, finally looking up from his breeches, lifting his very fine eyes to meet Kurt's.

“I remember being introduced to you some years ago. It was at a ball...Lady Susan Sylvester, I think. I confess I forgot your given name, but you are the Viscount Dalton's younger brother.”

Apparently, in hindsight, the young man had left an impression after all, until Kurt had been too occupied with his brother to notice him.

“Blaine Anderson, at your service,” the young man said, rising and offering his hand to shake. “I'm happy to meet you again, my lord.”

Kurt took Blaine's—Anderson's, it wouldn't do to get away with oneself—hand in a firm grip. “Kurt Hummel. Now, since we're all reacquainted, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to my home so I can make amends for so carelessly ruining your clothes?”

“Very well. Though there's really no need, but if you insist...”

“I do,” Kurt said. “Please come, before it rains.”

 

All conversation halted until they were at the house, for it did, indeed, start to rain, and in spite of considerable haste on the way back, they were wet through.

Kurt ordered hot water for washing for both of them, and set Blaine up in a guest room close to his own, to change into dry and clean clothes before tea and a light repast.

Lord Burt was away, so Kurt would not have to fear his reproving looks just yet, although as he had no intention of keeping his relationship to Blaine a secret, he probably would have to sooner or later, assuming as he did that there would be a relationship to Blaine his father could disapprove of. But for the moment, it also meant that he could have Blaine's company all to himself, which was something he intended to make use of immediately. Especially since Blaine walking downstairs in clothes borrowed from Kurt was a sight that gave him a thrill like little before.

“Don't feel obliged to satisfy my idle curiosity,” he said once they were comfortably settled downstairs, with tea and little sandwiches and cakes before them. “But I have been wondering what you were writing that made you sigh so much.”

“Not schoolwork,” Blaine said with an embarrassed little smile and a shrug.

“You don't have to tell me. I would never want to make you uncomfortable.”

Blaine shook his head. “No, my lord. You have been most kind to me and have, I think, earned to be let into my confidence to a degree. You must have guessed that it is a matter of...well, love.”

“I confess I did,” Kurt said, smiling as he watched Blaine take a delicate bite from one of the sandwiches, followed by two much less delicate. It made him wonder how it would be to make him lose care and caution in bed, intent only on his pleasure. “Hence my curiosity. It is hard to imagine a matter of love would make you sigh so, since I'm sure you must have had more than your share of offers.”

“Thank you, my lord. I have indeed received a few offers, but I turned them down because I have been in love with one individual for a long time now.”

Kurt leaned forward curiously. “Since when? And, more importantly, with whom?”

Blaine smiled, shaking his head. “I won't tell you his name, my lord. You have not earned my confidence quite that much. But as to since when—it must have been the same ball where we were introduced when I first set eyes on him.”

“That's a long time. And there's no hope for him to return your feelings?”

Blaine laughed, a trifle bitter. “I have not even had the courage to approach him on the matter. I think now that rejecting everyone who approached me was a mistake, maybe.”

“Why? It seems rather...romantic, if one likes that sort of thing.”

Blaine seemed to...deflate slightly as he answered. “That's what I thought, but....God, why am I telling you this? I have no experience whatsoever. Neither in bed, nor...in how to get someone there in the first place. And the one I love...he's...well. He does have experience, a lot of it. I have no idea how to approach him. And even if everything went well, I...I would not want him to find me...lacking.”

Kurt shrugged. If he was honest, he did not think the subject of Blaine's affections did sound all that worthy of him, but of course he didn't know the man. Kurt on the other hand found himself getting all hot at the thought of being the one with whom Blaine would experience everything for the first time. “Innocence can be charming.”

“I have been pining over him for the last five years. I was innocent the whole time, and he didn't even notice me. I think the time for innocence is over.”

“You may be right. But—excuse me if I'm presuming too much—it seems that you are planning a way to get him to dally with you. Surely, if you are in love with him, and have been for such a long time, you want more than a dalliance.”

Blaine nodded. “I do. But as I said, I've been pining for him for five years now. If a few nights with him are all I can get, then I'll take it. But I have not given up hope for it to become more. Only, I have to start somewhere.”

Kurt took a cake and ate it slowly, thinking about what he was going to say, if he really could do what he wanted to. His father, his past affair with Blaine's brother, and Blaine's innocence were all considerations against his plan, but...he wanted Blaine. He had wanted to peel the ink-stained breeches off him in the clearing, and now he was grateful for the table cloth that covered his own, as whenever his thoughts ran away with him, he couldn't help but react in a way that would surely be noticeable otherwise.

He'd cross each bridge when he came to it.

Taking a last sip of tea, he sat up, mentally preparing himself to get rejected or even slapped. “I would offer my services. As a teacher in matters of love, and a guide in how to approach the man you love.”


	2. Chapter 2

He would get punched, Kurt decided as the silence lasted. Punched, not slapped—Blaine had caused a minor scandal when he had chosen to box in school instead of fencing like his father and brother. Kurt always seemed to remember these details too late, although he probably would have taken the risk anyway.

Involuntarily, his hand rose to his nose as if to feel it in its current form for the last time.

Then Blaine smiled. “I accept your offer, and gladly.”

“Oh,” Kurt said and dropped his hand. “For a moment, I thought you'd punch me.”

“I wouldn't do that. I'm...flattered to receive such an offer from someone who is, from everything I heard, a master in the arts of love.”

A master in the arts of love would not blush at these words. “I don't think anyone can be a master in these arts. I would merely call myself...an enthusiastic student, perhaps.” He smiled, then frowned. “What do you mean, from all you've heard?”

Blaine smiled, sipping at his tea before he answered. “My brother was full of praise.”

“Your brother -” Kurt nearly choked on his tea and had to hastily dab at his mouth with a napkin before he continued. Curse Cooper and his big mouth. “You know about your brother and me. That makes things easier. And a little strange.”

Blaine nodded. “Especially since I remember him saying that he taught you everything. You know how my brother is.”

Kurt snorted indelicately and made a face. “So, if your brother taught me, and I teach you, that would mean...”

“That indirectly, my brother would teach me the arts of love. Ew. Luckily, I don't give much credit as to the amount of truth in that statement.”

“So you still want to do this?”

“I do. Although I would appreciate if we could stop talking about my brother now.”

“That would be good, yes. So. How do you want this to go? What do you want to learn?”

“Everything there is to learn. I want to be able to talk to a man I'm attracted to without making a fool of myself. I want to be able to seduce him, and I want to learn how to pleasure a man and how to find pleasure myself. I've not accepted your offer to stop half way, my lord.”

Kurt had to swallow. There was something incredibly arousing about hearing Blaine state his desires so boldly, and Kurt knew that he would be a very ardent and willing student. The whole arrangement sounded exactly to his taste; it would ease both boredom and loneliness, and at the end of a time period yet to be determined he would hand a hopefully satisfied Blaine over to the man he hoped to conquer. There would be no further commitments for Kurt after that, and a lot of amusement and diversion in the meantime. It was perfect.

Details could be cleared later; for now, he wanted Blaine to realize something.

“Please hear me out now, and trust that I am not fishing for compliments. Am I right in the assumption that since you so graciously accepted my....rather unusual offer, you are not completely repulsed by my appearance?”

“Repulsed?” Blaine exclaimed, almost indignant. Kurt could indeed not have wished for a more enthusiastic response had he been looking to boast his own confidence, instead of Blaine's. “You are a very handsome man, my lord, you must be aware of that.”

“I am,” Kurt said, grinning. “But I thank you all the same. Now, even though I am not the man you love, would you say that you are attracted to me?”

“I...of course I am. Having you as my teacher is....I am very much attracted to you.”

Kurt quickly hid his smile behind a napkin. Blaine blushing and stumbling over his words was adorable, but it wouldn't do to appear to be laughing at him.

“And yet,” he said, “you have just told me in clear words, without fussing, boldly and confidently, what you expect from our...arrangement. In other words, you have talked to a man you are attracted to without making a fool of yourself, and that about something much more...shall we say, delicate then you normally would in polite society.”

Blaine blushed, looking down. “It's not the same.”

“Maybe not. But it's a start.” He took a last sip of tea, then set the cup down. “Now, since you accepted my offer, you should come sit beside me. Sitting in that chair over there is playing hard to get, and we're past that point.”

But when Blaine hesitantly stood up from his chair, he held up a hand to stop him.

“Ask me first. I could be expecting someone else, and it would be rude to just take their seat.”

With a small smile that showed he appreciated the absurdity of the situation, but was game anyway, Blaine walked round the table, stopped at the small couch Kurt was sitting on, and sketched a short bow.

“Is this seat taken, my lord?” he asked.

Kurt smiled and made an inviting gesture. “Please feel free, sir.”

Blaine sat down on the edge of the seat, as far away from Kurt as was possible in the small space.

Kurt shook his head. “You're still playing hard to get. Come closer, let our legs brush. Maybe touch my shoulder to steady yourself.”

Blaine obeyed, but hesitantly. “Wouldn't that be...awfully bold?”

“Maybe, but as you said, the time for innocence is over. Now, you talk. About anything you like, following the rules of society, except if you wish, you should flirt a little, make some innuendos. This way, you can see if he wants you without asking him directly. Now, depending on...when do you see him again?”

Blaine hesitated a little. “He is expected at my brother's wedding, about a month from now.”

“Oh, yes, I received an invitation for that as well, no doubt issued with a great deal of smugness about my still uncommitted state. Although I was, I confess, surprised to hear about Cooper's nuptials. He did not seem the type to settle down soon.”

“My father made his wishes very clear before he died. Cooper extended the engagement period as much as could be regarded decent, but the truth is, Catherine is good for him. I think they will be happy.”

“I hope they will be.”

Kurt didn't know if it was accidentally or deliberately, but Blaine's leg brushed against his with greater frequency, and once he even thought he felt Blaine's hand on his back for a moment. He smiled. He couldn't be sure, but if it was deliberate, Blaine was a very fast learner indeed. He decided to take things further.

“If you have made it this far without the other man finding an excuse to get away, you should invite him to go somewhere more quiet. If this happens at your brother's wedding, you won't have too long to talk to him in private, so you should act quickly lest you be disturbed and you have to wait for another occasion to see him again.” He shrugged, grinning. “You could be indelicate and write to him, but...”

Blaine blushed again. “You have seen I'm not very good at writing.”

Kurt put his hand on the back of Blaine's neck and then let it glide down his back before he took it away. “No, you are much better at talking and...other things.” There was no mistaking now that the pressure against his leg was real and deliberate. Blaine didn't meet his eyes, but there was a small smile playing around his lips.

Kurt smiled, nudging Blaine's leg with his. “Ask me to go somewhere more quiet.”

Blaine leaned close, as one might do in a crowded room where it was loud and hard to understand each other, and then even closer so that Kurt could feel his breath on his skin. “My lord, would you care to accompany me on a stroll around the gardens?”

Kurt nodded approvingly. “Not too obvious, but still fairly clear. But are the gardens suited to your purpose?”

“The wedding will take place at our house. The gardens are quite extensive and have some very secluded spots.”

“Then, dear sir, I would love to have you show them to me.”

 

They did not go to the gardens, of course. It was still raining, and there was no need to take their acting that far; besides, although the gardens of Kurt's father's house were large and well-kept, there was a decided lack of secluded spots. There was no reason at all to leave the room or even the couch for the next part of the lesson.

“The next step is very easy and very pleasant,” Kurt promised, put his hand on the back of Blaine's neck and pulled him close. With a featherlight touch, he brushed his lips over Blaine's, heard him gasp, and smiled. Then he pressed their lips together, using his hand on Blaine's neck to angle his head the way he wanted.

Blaine took a deep, trembling breath and pulled him even closer, opening his mouth in invitation. Kurt smiled, but did nothing further until he felt the first tentative brush of Blaine's tongue against his lips. He couldn't quite hold back a moan, and decided there would be time enough later for slow, gentle kisses. Now, he would show Blaine what a real kiss could feel like.

Only when the need for air could not be denied any longer did they part, panting, taking their hands away from each other's bodies as if they could not be trusted to be left there.

Blaine looked at Kurt with wide eyes. “My lord...”

Kurt smiled. “I believe, sir, the time has come for you to call me Kurt.”

 

Kurt was lying in bed, torn between needing to think and finally putting his hands on himself to relieve the near-desperate state he had been in ever since kissing Blaine. He had sent Blaine home shortly after they had finally stopped kissing, with an invitation to dinner tomorrow and the prospect of staying the night after an introduction to lord Burt, who would by then have returned from his travels.

A big part of Kurt had wanted Blaine to stay. Even now he had trouble keeping himself from imagining what they might be doing, what he would be teaching Blaine, who would respond so deliciously...But apart from the fact that it would be very inappropriate to stay the night at the house of a man one had not been formally introduced to, Kurt had needed some time to be by himself. Deeply in thought, he touched his lips, tracing with his finger where Blaine's lips, his tongue had been not too long before. When they had stopped kissing the first time, Blaine had stared at him with wide eyes, looking just as stunned and awed as Kurt could have wished. And though he himself had hopefully looked less so, he had felt just the same.

Kurt had kissed a lot of people, and he had mostly enjoyed it. He had kissed shyly in the beginning and surer later, had shared kisses that were slow and lazy, or started as a slow burn and turned feverish with desire later, others that were passionate and frantic from the beginning. He was used to the frustration and anticipation he was feeling now, to the way his prick tended to remind him of kisses that had been interrupted or otherwise ended, leaving him physically unsatisfied.

He had enjoyed all these kisses, but his heart and his mind had stayed mainly unaffected.

Until now.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt was standing in the courtyard with the butler and steward, watching his father's carriage roll in. He knew Lord Burt was likely to disappear directly into his office with the steward to go over anything that might have happened during his absence, so Kurt spoke as soon as Lord Burt climbed out of the carriage.

“Father,” he said, bowing briefly. “Welcome home. I should like to speak to you at your convenience.”

Lord Burt handed his coat to the butler and pulled Kurt into a short hug. “How fitting. I would like to speak to you, too,” he said. “Let's have lunch together. We can talk about everything over food.”

 

Kurt went to lunch with a little bit of apprehension. His father wanting to speak to him didn't usually mean anything really bad, but also rarely something good. Besides, he risked Lord Burt's displeasure anyway by telling him about Blaine.

They ate in silence for a while, but finally Lord Burt dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and said,

“Well, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Kurt hesitated. He had thought long on how to tell his father the news, but had not been able to find words that would be able to describe his relationship to Blaine without mentioning details he really did not want Lord Burt to know.

“I made a new acquaintance,” he finally said, “Or rather, I re-formed an old one. Blaine Anderson, the Viscount Dalton's son? With your permission, he will be joining us for dinner, and afterwards spend the night.”

Lord Burt frowned. “And will he be sleeping in his own room, or in yours?”

Kurt said nothing, but knew his silence was answer enough. The frown deepened. “Kurt -”

“Father, I know what I promised, but...Blaine is....I'm not saying he is the one I will settle down with, but I think...I think that at the very least we will be friends.”

There was silence for a while, and Kurt waited with held breath. He knew his arguing was feeble; he could well be Blaine's friend without bedding him.

“I will allow it,” Lord Burt finally said reluctantly. “For two reasons. The first is, I know the young man, and I know he could use a friend. I'm sure you can imagine that it can't always be easy to be the current Viscount's brother, or the late Viscount's son. Whatever else happens between the two of you, I trust that you will treat him well and with the consideration he deserves.”

“Of course, Father,” Kurt promised, watching with growing concern as his father now used his napkin to dab at his forehead, before he took a sip of water and continued talking.

“The second reason is that I am in a peculiar mood and willing to indulge you, especially since I have some news that I think will concern and vex you in equal measure. There was an...incident on the road yesterday. Nothing bad, just a spell of dizziness that incapacitated me for a moment, but it showed me, as my recent illness should have, that I am not immortal. Therefore I have decided that your brief period of freedom is over. Starting tomorrow, I will teach you everything you need to know about running the estate, so that when the day comes, you are ready to take over.”

For a moment, Kurt felt dizzy himself. Losing his father was the greatest fear of his life, and he had thought that he could stop worrying about his health for at least a while.

“Of course, Father, as you wish,” he managed. “But are you sure you are well? Would you like to lie down for a little while, or-”

“I'm perfectly fine, Kurt,” Lord Burt interrupted. “William made me nap since we arrived. He is already fussing over me like a mother hen; don't you start, too.”

Despite everything, Kurt had to grin. William was Lord Burt's loyal valet, a fussy man who liked to make motivational speeches at every opportunity. Kurt could just about imagine him tucking Lord Burt into bed, whether he wanted or not, promising all would be well as if speaking to a child.

“Seriously,” Lord Burt continued. “I'm fine. This is merely a precaution.” He stood up, throwing his napkin on his plate. “Now, I have work to do. Tomorrow, you'll be helping me. Or hindering me, more likely. I look forward to meeting your friend tonight.”

 

“Father, may I present Blaine Anderson. Blaine, my father, Lord Burt Hummel of Lima.”

“It's an honor to meet you, my lord,” Blaine said, blushing slightly.

“Likewise, Anderson,” Lord Burt said gruffly, but he was smiling. Kurt knew instinctively that if something bad happened between them, Lord Burt would regard it his fault, and never Blaine's. Strangely, that was how Kurt saw it, too.

Dinner was a fairly relaxed affair. Lord Burt and Blaine seemed to get along well enough, and after some initial shyness, Blaine was charming and even talkative, even though, Kurt was sure, he knew that Lord Burt was aware of what they would be doing after dinner.

They had agreed not to make a secret of each other to their respective families, as it would make getting together quite difficult, and Blaine had told Kurt that the Viscount had been surprised and less than happy over their involvement. Kurt grinned as he imagined an enraged Cooper confronting him, demanding he return Blaine _virgo intacta_ , so to speak.

Well, that was not happening.

He looked at Blaine over the table, and very much wanted to kiss him.

 

After dinner, for a while things got awkward. It was too early to retire, and Lord Burt was in a sociable mood, or just knew of Kurt's impatience and wanted to vex him. He inquired after Blaine's family and his studies until finally that topic had run out and silence set in. Kurt was about to propose a game of cards even though he wasn't fond of those, when he remembered something Cooper had mentioned in passing at one of the few opportunities he had talked about something other than himself.

“Blaine,” he said, “I believe you sing and play the piano?”

“I do indeed,” Blaine said with a smile. “I'm surprised you know of my humble abilities.”

“I've never had the pleasure of hearing you, but I heard...someone talk about it.”

Blaine would knew of whom he was talking, but Kurt's father really didn't need to.

“Anyway,” Kurt said, rising. “Would you care for a duet?”

Blaine's smile grew wider. “I would love to sing with you. If it doesn't bother Lord Burt?”

Lord Burt waved his hand. “Please, do whatever you like. I confess I don't understand much of music, but I do enjoy a good song.”

 

They spent a truly enjoyable evening singing song after song. Kurt was in awe of Blaine's talent as a pianist and singer, and he could see his own voice was appreciated as well when Blaine stopped singing after a few beats of their first song, only accompanying him on the piano to better listen to his voice. Most of all, he liked when they sang together.

But when finally Lord Burt bid them good night and retired, they stopped singing without having to talk about it, and not out of consideration for Lord Burt's rest.

Kurt was about to speak when Blaine crossed the distance between them in a few quick steps and kissed him hard, without a trace of any shyness or hesitation. Both of them were breathless when they stopped, and Kurt had to subtly steady himself on the piano to keep his knees from trembling.

“I apologize for attacking you thus,” Blaine said. “I've wanted to do this the whole evening.”

“Me too,” Kurt said. “And don't apologize. It seems you have embraced the boldness, and that can only be good.”

They kissed again, more slowly this time and almost without any expectations of doing more, because of course nothing could happen as long as they were still in the sitting room, where any moment someone could come in. Before too long, however, Kurt longed to go upstairs and take Blaine's lessons a little further.

“What do you want to do?” he asked when they parted.

Blaine chuckled. “I don't think any teacher has ever asked me that before.”

“I should hope that our relationship is very different to those with any of your teachers.”

“That it is. My teachers were all hideous old men, but, like you, they enjoyed telling me what to do.”

Kurt smiled, tracing Blaine's bottom lip with his thumb. “Well, but now I'm asking you what you want.”

Blaine blushed and looked down, but at the same time, he gave a teasing lick to Kurt's thumb. “I want to go upstairs. Usually, I would of course let my esteemed teacher choose the lesson, but since you asked—there is something I very much want to do.”

When Kurt wanted to take his hand away, Blaine grabbed his wrist and kept it at his lips, sucking lightly on his thumb before saying, “I want you in my mouth.”

Kurt couldn't suppress a moan and had to hold on to the piano again, this time considerably less subtle. What was so incredibly erotic about this was less the promise of what was to come, as Kurt had every intention of letting Blaine have his will, but again the sure, confident way Blaine was stating his wishes. If he could keep doing that with the man he wanted to woo...well, the man would have to be an imbecile to reject him.

He would have to be that anyway. Blaine was handsome, very intelligent, courteous and friendly and energetic, and with Kurt's tutelage, he would be an excellent lover as well. Not to mention that he was the brother of a Viscount, and a rich one at that; though Kurt outranked him, Blaine was no bad match at all. Any man would count himself lucky to be chosen by him, and Kurt only hoped that the one he had chosen would prove himself worthy.

Kurt extended his hand for Blaine to take. They went upstairs together, nodding to the servants getting the house ready for the nightly rest, and once there, they didn't even bother pretending that Blaine would retire to the guest bedroom provided for him. Instead, they went directly to Kurt's room that was dominated by a large bed and lighted by candles a diligent servant had put there.

“Are you ready for your lesson?” Kurt whispered.

Blaine swallowed. “Yes, my lord. Yes, I am.”

Kurt kissed him and helped him take off his jacket before quickly getting rid of his own. Blaine in only a shirt and waistcoat was a sight that made Kurt want to touch him, to taste him, and he decided to slightly change his plans. Blaine would still get his wish, of course; Kurt had no intentions of denying him that. But first...

He opened Blaine's breeches and made him sit down on the bed, then lowered himself to his knees in front of him.

He looked up at Blaine and smiled. “Watch, and learn.”


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt sighed inwardly, careful to not let an actual sound escape his lips. He forced himself to focus on the papers his father was showing him. It was interesting and he knew how important it was, but he had trouble thinking of anything else than Blaine's reactions to Kurt's mouth on his cock, and later, Blaine's mouth on his. He had been unguarded in his enthusiasm, with no care on how he came across. There had been little left of the restrained, always polite Blaine that had sat at his dinner table. Instead, Kurt had been able to watch as Blaine became undone, unraveled, even frantic at times. It had been a heady experience. And later, after Blaine had come with a cry and a jerk of the hips that had nearly made Kurt choke, he hadn't even taken a minute to regain his composure; instead, he had drawn Kurt up and kissed him and moaned when he had tasted himself. Then he had slid down to his knees and opened Kurt's breeches with a haste that had made his fingers tremble and Kurt had had to help him. Then, there had been no hesitation, no shyness—Blaine had looked at Kurt's cock for a moment and then had swallowed it, taking it as deep as he could and sucking furiously. For Kurt, who had expected maybe a tentative lick, it had nearly been too much. He remembered gasping and clutching his bedsheets to avoid grabbing Blaine's hair, and for a moment, he had not been sure if he wanted to pull Blaine's head away or press it even closer. But after a moment, Blaine had been calmer, and used his lips and tongue to gently explore, so Kurt had -

Lord Burt clearing his throat made him look up guiltily. His father was looking at him expectantly, and Kurt tried in vain to recall any bit of his explanations.

“Yes, Father, I understand,” he finally said, hoping the words could be an answer to the question Lord Burt had obviously asked him.

Fortunately, Lord Burt nodded. “Very well. We'll go for a ride after lunch if the weather holds, so I can show you everything I just told you."

Kurt suppressed the question if Lord Burt was in any condition to ride; he knew it would never hold him back and most likely anger him.

“Yes, Father,” he said instead and gestured at the papers on the desk. “May I take these up to my room to look over them again?”

He felt guilty at his father's approving nod, but managed not to blush but gather the papers to take them up to his room so he could try and understand what his father had tried to explain to him while he had been daydreaming. It was just too hard to concentrate on anything when there was still the memory of how Blaine had looked with his pink lips wrapped around....

Sternly, he called himself to order. It would not do to forget his duties over his new-found pleasure with Blaine. His father was reluctant about them anyway, and he needed to prove that he was still able to be a dutiful son even though he was involved with someone again. It had worked before, it would work now.

Although he couldn't remember being that distracted before. In town, after a night with a lover, he had been able to attend and focus on his lectures without any problems. He just had to make a greater effort now.

He called for tea and settled at his desk with the papers, trying to make sense of them.

 

Their ride in the afternoon was a welcome distraction, and seeing everything on the papers in reality helped him to make more sense of what his father had tried to explain to him. After a while, though, he noticed his father getting tired. He started to mention this, suggest they go home, but then thought better of it. Instead, he slowly began to pretend fatigue, not with riding, but with the subject of their outing.

When his father had called him out on it, he smiled sheepishly. “My apologies, Father. I seem to have trouble focusing. Would you mind ending my lesson for today?”

It hurt him to see how Lord Burt could hardly conceal his relief. “Very well. Let's return home.”

Kurt made his horse turn, but then had a new idea. He smiled. “Actually, I was wondering if I might call on Blaine. We're close to his home, it seems a pity not to visit with him. I'll be home later.”

Lord Burt only nodded, not trying to hide his disapproval; but Kurt knew that he wouldn't go back on a promise once given, not until Kurt was very much out of line in his behavior or neglectful in performing his duties.

He raised a hand in goodbye to his father, then turned into the lane that would take him to Blaine's house. Or that of his brother, really, and for a moment, Kurt wondered if he was really going to expose himself to Cooper's displeasure so soon.

But with some luck, he wouldn't see the Viscount at all; he would leave his card with whoever opened the door, and then hopefully Blaine would come out to see him. And then...He wouldn't invite Blaine to come to his house, he didn't want to test Lord Burt's patience overmuch, and they couldn't stay at Blaine's house either, at least not if Cooper was home which at this time of day he probably was.

He shrugged. It was a fine day; they could just keep riding, or maybe go to an inn in the village and have a glass together. It wouldn't further Blaine's lessons, but it would be enjoyable nonetheless.

 

“I was hoping you would come to see me,” Blaine said when they were both on their horses, a safe distance away from Anderson manor.

“Did you now,” Kurt said smiling.

“Oh, yes. I was excessively bored. My brother won't let me do anything too time-consuming, claiming to need me to help with wedding preparations, but then he insists on doing everything himself, so...”

He smiled, but Kurt remembered his father saying it couldn't be easy to be Cooper's brother, and he saw the strain it took on Blaine. He thought very carefully on how to phrase his next question.

“What are you going to do after the wedding?”

It was up to Blaine how to answer the question, whether to take it lightly on how deprived he would be once the wedding planning was over, or to take it seriously and tell Kurt what he really wanted to know.

Blaine hesitated for a long time. “I don't know,” he finally said. “I would like to move out. I really don't want to be there when they're all, you know....newly married. And it's their home. They should have it to themselves and their children. But where would I go? I've finished my studies, but whenever I try to talk to Cooper about having a profession, about making my own way, he just tells me he needs me here. And yet I don't think he does. He never lets me do anything important.”

Before Kurt could find a way to answer, Blaine shrugged, smiled, and said, “I shouldn't be telling you this. I didn't mean to get so maudlin. I assure you everything is well, I am well. Race you to the clearing?”

Then he was gone, and Kurt stared after him for a moment until his competitiveness got the better of him and he raced after Blaine, finally reaching the clearing shortly after him.

He was out of breath and feeling exhilarated from the speed and the thrill of the race, and looking at Blaine, he was in a similar mood. Gone were the somber looks. He was laughing as he dismounted and patted his horse, offering a treat as a reward. Kurt strolled over to him, laughing as well as he saw a twig tangled in Blaine's hair, crowning him with admittedly yellowing and a little wet leaves instead of laurel.

Kurt plucked the twig out of Blaine's hair with a smile. “How are you?” he asked gently.

Blaine sighed, still smiling, and leaned against a tree. “I'm fine, really. Cooper is my brother, and however much he aggravates me at times, I know that I'll always have a place in his household, and that I can be useful there, too. It's just...frustrating, sometimes.”

“Well,” Kurt said, “if you are very much bored, you can always help me figure out how to manage the estate. It's really too much work for one person. I try to tell my father, but as usual, he doesn't listen.”

Then he threw the twig away and put his hands on the tree on either side of Blaine, so that he was trapped against it.

“On a different note, you won the race. What do you want for your price?”

Blaine swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving in his throat. Kurt wanted to lick it. He hoped very much that Blaine would choose a price that was somehow in line with that. He was in luck.

“I want you to kiss me,” Blaine said.

Kurt leaned against him with his whole body. “Here, out in the open?” he teased. “How daring.”

Blaine scoffed, although it came out rather breathless. “No one ever comes here.”

 

As they kissed, Kurt wasn't sure he would even notice if someone came here after all. He was certain there were still birds singing, but he didn't hear them, and it was good his horse was so well-behaved, as the reigns slid out of his hand at some point and he didn't even notice. He pressed Blaine against the tree until he was sure he would have the imprint of the bark on his skin for days after, but neither of them cared as they kissed as if there was nothing else in the world needing their attention.

A long time later, when the shadows had become longer and the light more dim and it was clear they would soon have to return to their respective families' homes, Kurt squeezed one of his hands between them and began to clumsily open Blaine's breeches.

“Kurt...” Blaine said, voice husky.

“No one ever comes here,” Kurt said with a smile and finally succeeded in taking Blaine's cock out.

“I know. I wasn't going to stop you,” Blaine said, and then moaned long and broken as Kurt tightened his hand around him.

Then, to Kurt's surprise, Blaine put his hands on him, fumbling open his breeches and taking out his cock with trembling fingers, and squeezing until Kurt couldn't help but moan himself.

Leaning against the tree, they brought each other off while sharing kisses that were little more than panting into the other's mouth. They spilled their seed on the ground at nearly the same time, and their cries of relief echoed in the small clearing.

Afterwards, they cleaned up as much as possible, sharing little smiles whenever their eyes met. Silently, they went after their horses that had wandered off a little on the search for grass, and when they were ready to go, Kurt kissed Blaine once again.

“Please,” he said, “come see me soon.”

Blaine nodded, smiled, and with that, they took their leave.

Kurt glanced back to the clearing on his way through the woods and felt the absurd desire to ride back and carve a heart or some such symbol into the bark of the tree he had pressed Blaine against, to commemorate this event and to mark the place where they had met, again and yet for the first time, a few days ago.

It had really been only a few days again. Kurt found he had grown accustomed to Blaine's society very quickly.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt was sitting in Lady Sue Sylvester's overly opulent salon, sipping at a glass of admittedly excellent champagne, and pouting. He carefully schooled his features into a neutral expression, but knew he wouldn't be able to pretend to have fun or even be sociable. He frowned as he watched Blaine, flirting over his hand of cards with every man and woman in his party.

It was his own damned fault. A few weeks into their arrangement, he had given Blaine the task of not only being his usual charming self, but to actively flirt with the other guests of the party. Blaine was good, if still a little shy, and it was working; the young ladies were giggling behind their fans, while the occasional older one would make a lewd remark while tapping him on the shoulder with her fan in reproof. The gentlemen were looking at him with calculating eyes, as if to figure out how far they could get him to go, and Kurt was slowly going mad.

He should have known it. It had been obvious, these past few weeks, that he was developing some...affection for Blaine, even though they had had not nearly as much time for each other as he might have wished. But the way he was thinking of him, not only at night in bed when he brought himself off to memories of Blaine fucking him, so gentle and careful at first until he gave him leave to move, and then with his usual vigor and the most delicious sounds, awe and wonder in his eyes. But during the day, too, when his father was showing him something that puzzled him, or he saw something amusing that Blaine would like - it had been clear as day, and whatever he might say, he had had enough warning to maybe cut their arrangement short before his feelings became too strong, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it.

He was distracted from his thoughts when someone stood directly in front of his chair, and looking up, he saw it was Blaine's brother, Cooper Anderson. Slowly, Kurt stood up. He had a lingering suspicion what this was about, and now it didn't seem half as amusing as it had been when he imagined it.

“Viscount,” he said in greeting.

Cooper sketched a short bow. “May I speak to you in private for a moment, my lord?”

“Of course,” Kurt said, and together they went on the balcony that was, for once, empty.

Once outside, Cooper's respectful behavior changed.

“I want you to stay away from Blaine,” he said without preamble, hands clenched into fists at his side.

“But Blaine doesn't want me to stay away from him,” Kurt said with a very impolite grin, amused by Cooper's usual dramatic behavior.

“Watch your mouth,” Cooper warned, scowling. “You shouldn't be so familiar with him.”

With some difficulty, Kurt refrained from telling him how familiar his mouth was with Blaine by now; calling him by his given name was nothing. “I call him Blaine, he calls me Kurt. It's mutual.” Except when Blaine slipped and called him 'my lord', which happened when he got overwhelmed and sometimes in bed, or when he was in a teasing mood. Kurt rather liked it. “You called me Kurt, too, _Coop_. What's your problem with Blaine and I?”

When Cooper only scowled without answering, Kurt relented. They had parted on good terms, there was no reason now to become enemies over this.

“I have no desire to hurt Blaine, Cooper. We are friends, too, you know, and both of us know what we're doing. I know he is your little brother, and you want to protect him, but he is a grown man too, and he wants to have his own experiences. Some of them, he wants to have with me. I promise I'll keep him safe.”

“Can you keep his heart safe?” Cooper asked. Kurt nearly laughed. He wasn't even able to keep his own heart safe, what was he supposed to do with another's?

“I have nothing to do with his heart,” he replied, somewhat sullenly. “He has given his heart away a long time ago, there is nothing you, I, or anyone else can do about it. We can only hope that the one he has chosen is worthy of him.”

“I suspect he is not,” Cooper said, but before Kurt could ask if he knew the name of the man, Cooper bowed and left the balcony.

After a moment, Kurt followed him inside. Cooper was watching Blaine playing at cards, or rather flirt over his hand, at the moment with a young lady who seemed especially delighted by his attentions.

“I grant that it doesn't seem like he needs my protection anymore. He does seem rather comfortable in society,” Cooper said.

“He does indeed,” Kurt said and made to return to his seat, where he was enough out of focus he wasn't requested to play too often. But he stood and looked back for a moment. “Cooper. Congratulations on your engagement.”

Cooper smiled. “Thank you.”

 

Comfortable in society, indeed. Far too comfortable, in Kurt's opinion, and he more than ever regretted the stupid assignment he had given Blaine when he heard a particular loud, and so it seemed to him, exaggerated giggle from the direction of Blaine's table. They could flirt and flounce all they wanted. He would take Blaine home with him tonight, and he would finally claim him. None of the simpering idiots currently fawning over Blaine would get to fuck him tonight. Only Kurt. Only ever -

Who was he kidding. He was no one to Blaine, he had no claim to him, and in a few weeks, Blaine would be gallivanting off with the unknown man Kurt really did not like at all. Maybe, after a while, when Blaine wouldn't be so preoccupied with his new lover anymore, they could be friends. But that was all they'd ever be.

Suddenly, he wanted to be here even less than before. He had planned to take Blaine home with him, but he didn't want to anymore; he feared for his self control. He should go, he dared not tarry any longer lest he alert all and sundry to his foul mood by snapping at anyone who tried to talk to him.

He stood, said a discreet farewell to the hostess, and left. Leaned back in the seat of his barouche, he thought, and he was still thinking as he lay in bed.

Maybe it was time to finally admit to himself that this arrangement was not going according to plan at all. He had known Blaine, really known him, for only a few weeks, and yet there was nothing he could call himself but infatuated. Or maybe that word was too weak, even, maybe he should call himself...But he wouldn't. There was no sense in it, and only heartbreak, because whatever feelings he was building, Blaine would never reciprocate. Blaine had been in love with that unworthy scoundrel for years; that would not change because of a few weeks acquaintance with him. There was nothing to do for him but to somehow get through the last few weeks until Cooper's wedding, and then try his best to overcome this. As he would. Because he had to.

 

Lord Burt had excused Kurt from his duties for the morning, knowing as he did that there was no escaping Lady Sue Sylvester's invitation, and that even with Kurt's premature departure, the party had lasted well into the night.

So Kurt was late to breakfast, and somehow wasn't surprised to receive Blaine's card on a tray in the middle of it.

“Invite Mr. Anderson to join me, please, and bring a second cup and more tea,” he told the maid who had brought the card, and barely had time to take a deep breath before Blaine entered the room.

“I'm surprised to see you up so soon. You stayed longer than I did; shouldn't you still be in bed?” Kurt said, trying for light hearted and teasing, but not sure if he succeeded. From the way Blaine scowled at him, he did not.

“I might have been,” Blaine said slowly, sitting down and pouring himself a cup of tea, “had there been someone beside me, as I came to expect there would.”

Kurt winced. “My apologies. It wasn't my intention to abandon you. I was plagued by a headache and decided to seek my bed. I...you seemed to be enjoying yourself, so I left you in peace.”

Immediately, Blaine's expression turned into one of worry, and Kurt felt guilty for lying.

“Are you better now?” Blaine asked.

“Much better,” Kurt said, which again was a lie, because while he wasn't tormented by jealousy anymore, it was no easier to be aware of his feelings and know they would ever stay unrequited.

They talked about nothing of import while Kurt was finishing his breakfast, although Blaine was able to offer some new insights on a few things about the estate Kurt had been thinking about.

As soon as he dabbed his lips, however, and set down his cup, Blaine asked, “What did you think of my performance yesterday? Did I fulfill my task?”

Kurt suppressed a grimace. “You did indeed. Most admirably.”

Blaine stood up from his seat on the other side of the table, only to sit down again on the chair next to Kurt's. Their legs brushed as he sat down, and Kurt knew it was deliberate. Blaine really had been an exceptional student, and there wasn't much more Kurt could teach him that he wouldn't be able to learn by himself, just by getting more experience. Kurt also didn't want to teach him anymore. He didn't want to be Blaine's teacher, he wanted so much more he would never be.

“If I remember correctly, my lord, you promised to grant me a boon if I fulfilled your task,” Blaine said, and Kurt groaned inwardly. He had an idea what Blaine would ask for, and it would be hard for him to give. But how could he not? He was not strong enough for that.

“You have certainly earned it,” he said, forcing a smile. “If it is in my power to give, you shall have it.”

“Not only is it in your power to give, you are the only one who can give it. The first time, you insisted that I would be the one to....fuck you, since I was the virgin. And it was wonderful, but now that I am virgin no longer, I would know the other side. I want you to fuck me.”

 

Kurt hadn't thought Blaine meant right now. But here they were, in broad daylight, in Kurt's bed, and Kurt couldn't help but put all he was feeling, his whole heart, into his kiss. It felt almost unbearably intense to him, but Blaine didn't seem to notice; he moaned his pleasure and kissed Kurt back just the way he had learned he liked it. And Kurt was weak; he couldn't help but respond to it, to the way Blaine touched him, so sure of himself now, so sure that Kurt would like whatever he did. He responded, moaned and arched his back and fumbled for the oil on the little table beside the bed, even though tears burned behind his eyes that he would never, never, let anyone see.

And then he became even weaker, for he forgot about the pain and the heartbreak that would surely follow, and he forgot even himself as he pushed into Blaine, slowly, slowly, while Blaine was looking at him with wide eyes, and then let them fall closed and moaned, long and deep, his hands clutching Kurt's hips in a grip that would leave bruises. He forgot everything but the moment, and that he was giving Blaine this last thing, and himself this to remember, later, when his bed was cold again.


	6. Chapter 6

Miss Catherine Wilde, sharp-tongued and pretty, whose fortune more than made up for her lack of title, was in the process of becoming Mrs Cooper Anderson, Viscountess Dalton, and Kurt could focus on nothing else than on who of the people sitting in church was the mysterious man Blaine was pining for.

There were, of course, plenty of people there he didn't know, or maybe had at one point been introduced to but couldn't remember. It didn't help at all that he had no idea what Blaine's taste in men was; though he had confessed to finding Kurt attractive. and there had been every indication of that being true, that didn't mean he didn't also like the tiny red-haired man in the pew before him, or the huge bald one two rows behind.

He shook his head at Lord Burt's questioning look to indicate there was nothing. That was at least one thing to be happy about: his father was much better, there had been no more spells of dizziness or weakness, and their afternoon rides were longer every day. He had not, however, slowed down or stopped Kurt's education in how to manage the estate; if anything, it had become more rigorous and took up more hours of the day. Which gave Kurt a good excuse to spend less time with Blaine.

Sometimes, he thought it was working, as he was actually able to focus a good part of the day on other things; but mostly, he just missed him. And the worst thing was, he knew Blaine missed him too; at least, he left his card almost every day. Kurt really was busy, but he could have made time. As things were, however, they merely occasionally spent an hour or two together, wandering over the estate. Blaine's insight often helped Kurt come up with solutions for a problem, and anyway, a second or third pair of eyes oftentimes saw things that others had missed. But they did not....

He forced himself to focus on the service; this was neither the time nor the place. He glanced at Blaine, who was standing proudly beside his brother in front of the altar. Blaine seemed to have no problem keeping his eyes where they should be, even though the man he loved must be sitting here somewhere. Kurt, in any case, had trouble looking at anything else but Blaine or looking around the congregation to find out who his rival might be.

Not that he was really a rival. Blaine's love for the unknown man had been steady, unrivaled, for nearly five years; that wouldn't have changed now. To be a rival, he would have to have at least a chance of winning Blaine's affections, which, he knew all too well, he did not.

 

At the party, after congratulating the newly-weds and talking with a few guests he hardly saw and was quickly reminded why, Kurt ate, and then danced with a few friends. He preferred the ladies as partners; no one had any expectations of him if they saw him dance with one, and after two dances they usually went their separate ways, as dancing more with him was often regarded as a waste of time since it was widely known that he didn't intend to make any of them _his_ lady.

Whenever he danced with a gentleman, expectations and speculations ran high, and Kurt tried to avoid that whenever possible.

He would dance with Blaine.

But Blaine was nowhere to be seen, no matter how often Kurt tried to subtly crane his head to look around the room whenever he and his partner were disengaged. He wasn't among the dancers, nor was he with those who ate or chatted by the punch bowl. There was only one conclusion left, and Kurt tortured himself by imagining it in vivid detail: Blaine had already taken his lover outside, doing his best to seduce him in one of the secluded spots the garden boasted.

He resisted the temptation to go outside and look for himself. It would not do to invade Blaine's privacy, especially since they had made the plan together and thus, Blaine would know it could only be deliberately.

But he couldn't dance anymore. As soon as the set was over, he escorted his partner back to her seat, resisted all efforts to be drawn into conversation, and went to sit on the benches along the far wall together with the wallflowers and the chaperones. He felt like both, in a way: alone and unwanted, desperately hoping to be noticed and at the same time loathe to be so—and constantly on the lookout, searching for someone he long knew had snuck off to fool around somewhere. A tad overdramatic, he thought wryly, but there was no help for it: his mood was such that he was determined to be miserable and ready to hate every man in the room, and especially those in the garden.

“Is this seat taken, my lord?” someone asked, and Kurt looked up, ready to be angry about the intrusion into his misery. Instead, he just frowned in confusion and made an inviting gesture.

“Please, do as you like.” Blaine made to sit down, but stumbled and had to steady himself on Kurt's shoulder; still, he fell down on the seat so close he was almost sitting on Kurt's lap.

“Blaine, what's going on?” Kurt asked when they had sorted themselves out, Blaine still sitting much too close for Kurt's peace of mind. He felt like he had goosebumps all along the outside of his left thigh, he was so aware of Blaine's touch. “Why-?”

“How did you like the service, my lord?” Blaine asked, interrupting him in an overly bright, somewhat artificial tone. Fitting the question, Kurt thought; Blaine knew he disliked small talk and only went to church when he was forced.

Kurt shrugged inwardly. He had no idea what was going on, why Blaine was here with him making awkward small talk instead of outside with his lover, doing all kinds of things Kurt had tried very hard not to imagine. He didn't know, but he decided to go along with it anyway. Anything was better than sitting here and sulking.

“The sermon was too long,” he finally said, “but the bride looked happy. As did, to my not inconsiderable surprise, the groom.”

“I told you she was good for him,” Blaine said. He was smiling, the tone less forced now Kurt had answered. “He resisted long enough, but he knows it too. She doesn't take any of his...”

“Dramatics,” Kurt added, startled when he felt a hand on the small of his back. He thought he knew what was going on now, but he didn't know why.

“But didn't you find the service...touching?” Blaine asked.

“I find it hard to be...touched, by nothing but words,” Kurt replied. The hand on his back started to move, stroking slowly along his back with a thumb. The touch seemed to burn through his shirt.

“Oh, but think it is possible,” Blaine said. “Not at church, perhaps, but I seem to remember quite distinctly a few times where words had as great an effect on you as anything else.”

Now Kurt remembered as well, for these words started to affect him just as much as the touch on his back. He still didn't know what was going on, but the confusion was a lot easier to bear than the hopelessness before.

“Maybe it is only your words, then, sir,” he said.

Blaine smiled. He came even closer, so Kurt could feel his breath on his skin as he spoke. “It is a fine day. Would you like to see the gardens?”

Kurt couldn't quite believe what was happening. He answered in a daze. “It would be my pleasure, I have heard so much about them.”

 

Though the walk was short, to Kurt it seemed long. They carefully did not touch, and they had to stop a few times to talk to wedding guests, who insisted on congratulating Blaine to his brother's wedding, and some of them asked what Blaine was going to do now, and of course, inevitably, when he was going to settle down. Kurt tensed the first time because he knew that it was a sore subject for Blaine, but Blaine just smiled and said he had a few prospects he was about to explore. Kurt filed that comment away to ask about later, because at the moment, he was too overwhelmed; he felt, he realized, like Blaine must have felt the first day: at the mercy of someone who knew what they wanted and was not afraid to get it. Even if he still didn't know what Blaine wanted.

Finally, they arrived at one of the 'secluded spots' Blaine had promised there would be, and here, a blanket was spread on the grass, with a few cushions scattered on it and a basket with food and drink sitting to one side. The spot was surrounded by hedges on three sides, and a large tree stood on the fourth. Kurt would never have seen it had it not been for Blaine.

“Blaine, please tell me what's going on! I don't understand, why are you not with -”

Blaine had sat down on the blanket and dragged Kurt down with him, so he was half-falling, sitting down heavily much too close to Blaine. He was drawn even closer.

“Blaine-” he protested, and Blaine sighed.

“About five years ago,” Blaine said, busying himself with pouring them champagne,” I was introduced to a young man at a ball. I won't say it was love at first sight, but...I wasn't able to forget him. I wasn't able to get a dance, as he was only dancing with the ladies, and for a moment I feared he was one whose proclivities only lay with the fairer sex. But then I heard more about him, and I found out that that wasn't the case...quite the contrary, if I may say so.”

He leaned back against the hedge, closing his eyes. Then he opened them again and took Kurt's hand, holding it as he continued.

“I heard very different accounts about this young man. Most took him for a rake, and claimed he was out to break every young man's heart. Others said it was only a bit of harmless fun, and that he would settle down when the time came. All were in accord that he was honorable, did not pretend to be someone other than he were, and that he was a good son and an ardent student. We studied in the same town, but we rarely met and seldom talked. I don't think I have made a very good impression, for by that point I was quite enamored of him and stuttered and blushed quite terribly in his presence.

Then his father fell sick, and the young man interrupted his studies to rush home to his side. It only meant that I wanted to get to know him, really know him, even more, but it also meant that I never saw him anymore, as by the time his father had recovered and he returned to town, I had finished my studies and gone back home. I pined for him from afar, and whenever I had the chance, I talked with a man he had been with, if only to torture myself with the thought that it hadn't been, and would never be, me. I wrote him letters that I burned, and a few terrible poems. At one of my attempts to do just that, he came upon me in the clearing I was sitting, and made me an offer I was not able to decline.”

“You're—you're talking about me,” Kurt said. He absently took a sip from his glass, not tasting anything, too stunned to notice anything around him at all, except from Blaine and the confession he just made. Could it really be?

“I am,” Blaine said. “I've always been talking about you.”

He fell silent for a moment, and Kurt didn't say anything either. He wasn't sure what he felt. He picked a blade of grass from the lawn and tore it in tiny pieces, watching them being scattered by the breeze. He had been so intent on suppressing his feelings for Blaine, not letting them come to the surface because he had been so sure they would never be reciprocated, it was hard now to allow himself to feel something, and harder still to define those feelings.

“I...I have had a feeling,” Blaine said hesitantly, “and I've been hoping...”

Hope, Kurt decided. The feeling was hope.

“I want you to know,“ Blaine said, not looking at him. “that if what was between us is everything there'll ever be, it was worth it. But if there is even a chance you may be susceptible to your own method of seduction, I want to tell you....I've loved you for a long time, and I love you now more than ever.”

Kurt nodded. He was terrified, but he knew that Blaine must have been, too. And if Blaine had been so brave, he could do no less.

“I love you too,” he said, putting the feeling into words for the first time. “I have to confess to have loved you for only a short time, but if you let me, I will make up for that for the rest of my life.”

The kiss they shared was like every other time they had kissed before, and yet it was completely new, because it was a beginning.

 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
